


Desperate Measures

by RcA



Series: Carnivores [7]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Traits, Blood and Gore, Creature Fic, Discussions of death, Dominance/submission, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Themes of Hunger, Werewolves, imminent danger, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-04 19:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12174849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RcA/pseuds/RcA
Summary: Daesung knows it was necessary. He knows it was the only way. But it still stings, knowing also that his pack came running when he needed them and then... walked off without him.





	Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> They're baaaaaaaack. Sort of. Someone on tumblr had a question about a specific scene from [Carnivores](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7731763), and let's face it, I couldn't stay away from this AU forever. There is a scene in which Daesung is held hostage by a rival pack for a short time in Chapter 4 of Carnivores. This fic takes place immediately after that.
> 
> PS. I saw there was a "Pack Feels" tag and thought that was cute (and fitting!) so I had to use it.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a fictional work based on the public personas of real people, over whom I make no claim and to whom I mean no harm. None of this ever happened.

 

 

_(Carnivores, Chapter 4)_

 

_"Daesung," Jiyong calls to him kindly, "Come straight home, okay?"_

 

\--

 

What hurts most, Daesung thinks with a stab of regret, is not the rough hands clamped over his forearms and squeezing savagely, the small bones in his wrists grinding. It isn't the fingers wound tight in his hair, wrenching his head back hard and setting his scalp aflame. It isn't the prick of claws at his throat as they hover there in deadly promise, four sharp points against his fluttering pulse, a flick of the wrist away from watering the grass with his blood. It would splash warm over his skin if those claws were to dig in, rushing out of him like a beast unleashed, spilling hot and thick down his front. There would be no stopping it, even if his hands were free; it would gush through the gaps between his fingers too fast to contain.  
  
He can't put the blood back in. It would be the end of him.  
  
Like hoofbeats from within his frightened heart pummels him, his blood drumming in his veins, everything inside screaming at him to _fly_ \--  
  
But a deal was struck, so he does not try. He holds himself upright on shaking legs, as still and silent as stone, for even this is not the height of his pain. The source of his suffering lies not inside him, but ahead of him, their forms flickering in and out of view through the brush.  
  
What wounds Daesung worst of all is the separation. It is his packmates in the distance, their backs moving away, their figures fading under the setting sun. It is watching them vanish into the trees, the shade swallowing them up at last. Out of sight. Out of touch.  
  
But not out of mind. Never out of mind.  
  
Relief wars with regret. He had been, without words, wishing they would go while hoping they would stay; he was in danger either way. Like the sun overhead, Daesung's heart had sunk as he watched his family hand over what they've devoted years to defending. The most important thing they have besides each other.  
  
Their land. Their _livelihood_ , without which they cannot hope to survive. And for what?  
  
For him.  
  
Guilt rakes through him, as excruciating as any claws. With threats and slurs their enemies had stoked the flames of Seunghyun's fiery temper until they had won exactly what they sought. His mate was angry, yes, but more than that he was _afraid_. Beyond his bared fangs and eyes blazing with killing intent, Daesung had felt his fear, as loud and clear as his own.  
  
And now he's gone, and only Daesung's fear remains.  
  
He knows it was necessary. He knows it was the only way. Even Youngbae's great speed could not have carried him to his side in time, not with the enemy's claws at his throat. But like sand in an open wound, tiny shards slicing under his skin, it still stings, knowing also that his pack came running when he needed them and then... walked off without him.  
  
_They had no choice_ , Daesung reminds himself. _They loved me enough to leave me behind because they knew it was the only way to keep me alive._  
  
Seunghyun had surprised him by not once looking back. The stiff set of his shoulders, his drooping tail, and his head hung in defeat as he shuffled along a few steps behind his packmates had all cried, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't do more._  
  
He could have done more. He just would have gotten them all killed in the process.  
  
But he didn't, and Daesung is faced with the unsettling truth that he is now _alone_ with these wolves who would do him harm.  
  
_"Then I think it's only fair that we divide up your friend here, too,"_ he remembers hearing spoken over him, the memory bubbling back to the surface now that his support is gone. _"Tell me, what parts of him do you want?"_  
  
He doesn't mean to let it slip-- a soft cry of distress, a ghost of a whimper floating up and out of him. But there it is, and in the silence he can sense it hanging there before him, suspended in air, his weakness laid bare for all his enemies to see.  
  
The strong prey on the weak.  
  
Of course he fought at first; his thrashing about bought his younger packmate, Seungri, time to make an escape. But they had been ambushed, and their enemies had him from the start-- too many at once for him to fight off alone-- and soon he had folded, admitting defeat.  
  
Because while wolves do so love to fight, Daesung knows that their quarrels can, on occasion, end without violence. Falling still in their arms, pliant under their rough handling while they used him against his own pack seems to have paid off. Sometimes, among their kind, the best way to survive is to simply _obey_. A little compliance can go a long way.  
  
He does hate being reduced to a bargaining chip though. His packmates deserve better.  
  
A bead of sweat slithers down his neck, slow and steady, and still he does not move.  
  
...until the hands at his back pull hard and fast, shocking a second whimper out of him.  
  
"You're surprisingly well-behaved for a wolf whose pack just turned its back on him," he hears growled into his ear.  
  
Daesung bites his lip to keep from spitting curses, disappointment-- or is that blood?-- leaving a bitter film across the back of his tongue.  
  
Their hunting grounds-- what will they do without them? It isn't like Jiyong to go down without a fight, not when their lives are on the line. Daesung still struggles to make sense of what he just watched unfold. Did his leader really agree to give it up so easily?  
  
_He did it for me._ Behind thick bangs his eyes slip shut. _This is all because of me._  
  
Because he had been too comfortable, too relaxed, and when taken by surprise, too slow to react. Because he and Seungri had ventured too far, had gone too boldly in search of some small scrap to eat, forgetting that neighboring packs were suffering too.  
  
_We were too hungry to care._  
  
The claws come away from his throat.  
  
"That was easier than expected. Thought they'd fight harder to take you back." Hot breath washes over the back of his head, and Daesung imagines it smells foul. "Doesn't that bother you?"  
  
He sets his jaw; a question like that doesn't deserve an answer.  
  
"Hey. I asked you a question." A hand plants itself between his shoulders and shoves as, for the first time that evening, he resists.  
  
"Yes it _bothers_ me," he just manages not to snarl, though his lip curls slightly, exposing one elongated fang. He had hoped that by keeping his mouth shut they would not notice his fangs descending, but he is afraid, his life is in peril, he is _doing his best_ to keep all his sharp bits tucked away so that they'll deem him meek and docile and, he hopes, not worth much more of their time.  
  
Playing dead works for opossums. Why not him?  
  
"Are you gonna cry about it?" That comes from his left, the pack pressing in until they surround him.  
  
"No," he snaps.  
  
"Poor little wolf pup, ditched by his pack."  
  
He frowns. They left him, yes, but for a good reason. Their absence is a passing thing. This isn't like last time. He'll see them again soon, he _will_.  
  
"'m not a pup," he grumbles, and is suddenly taken back to all the times he and the others have tormented-- _teased_ Seunghyun, oldest of them all, with the term.  
  
"No, you're not." Then calloused hands are turning him around until he's staring into a familiar pair of black eyes, set in a face he knows, grim and gaunt. "Shit, look at you. Haven't seen you this close in... years, feels like."  
  
Daesung stands, motionless, as sharp eyes rake over him, their leader-- their alpha-- soaking in the sight of him.  
  
"You look..." The man laughs, and Daesung thinks of a crow's _caw_ , harsh and grating, "Well, half-starved like the rest of us."  
  
He hopes his hair hides the worst of his glare. No need to rub it in.  
  
"Still smell the same though," he murmurs, breathing deep. And his eyes go half-lidded with interest, and Daesung knows what comes next.  
  
"Last time I had you this close you were on your knees with those pretty lips wrapped nice and tight around my cock." A calloused hand pets down one side of Daesung's face, his palm tough and dry like the depleted earth under them.  
  
"You had something I wanted," Daesung reminds him. It hadn't exactly been an act of charity.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. What was it again? Oh, that's right." A finger taps Daesung right between the eyes, and it's a miracle he doesn't stumble over his own feet in surprise. "Half a pack of cigarettes."  
  
Daesung smirks, unable to stop it. Before Seunghyun came along and pulled him into the pack-- rather forcibly, and only after pushing him into a pond in the middle of winter, in typical Seunghyun fashion-- Daesung had swallowed his fair share of cock for far less than that... and _liked_ it.  
  
He still does. It's just that these days he prefers to keep it in the family.  
  
"How were they, anyway? Good? Worth it?"  
  
"They weren't for me."  
  
Daesung has always hated the habit, anyway. Why any wolf would ever willingly fill his lungs with smoke is beyond him. Smoke burns you on the inside. Smoke chokes you. Smoke _kills_.  
  
And the _stench_.  
  
He may not always understand the strange things that bring Seunghyun satisfaction, but he does not have to. His satisfaction is enough.  
  
"We picked 'em up in the ruins of some small settlement several days' walk from here. Poor bastards died from disease or famine or-- something. Who knows. Everything was intact, including their bad habits. All we had to do was walk in and take it."  
  
"Just how you like it."  
  
The other wolf peers down at his claws in thought.  
  
"I prefer it when they put up a fight, but hey. Free stuff. Can't complain. And don't act like you and your pack haven't done the same."  
  
"Yeah..." Daesung trails off, knowing he's been caught.  
  
"You know, I always wondered if the smokes were even half as good as the head you gave me that day. Never got the chance to ask," the man says, flashing him a knowing grin. "It's like you were avoiding me or something."  
  
Daesung snorts. He had kept his distance afterward, not to ease pack rivalries but to quell Seunghyun's tremendous jealousy. To his dismay, his mate had not taken well to the gift-- not when he realized what Daesung had done to secure it.  
  
"Like I said, they weren't for me. They were for my mate."  
  
"God, that one," the man says, shaking his head. "He's full of fire. Why a wolf like that settled for someone like you-- and how you ended up stuck with someone like him-- I'll never know. Surprised he hasn't eaten you alive by now."  
  
_He has_ , Daesung thinks with carefully concealed amusement, _just not in the way you're thinking._  
  
"We could have a repeat performance, you and I," the other wolf suggests, and Daesung hates how the others start snickering. "If you make it real good I might even return the favor. Could use some fresh meat."  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"I'd rather fuck _you_." A hand lands on his bony hip, thumb rubbing him through his shirt. "What'll it take? Another pack of smokes?"  
  
"I said fuck _off_. He quit." _And you're a disgusting piece of shit. I wouldn't touch you again if my life depended on it._  
  
"Too bad," the man sighs, "Maybe I can talk you into something else then. How about something for you, not that so-called mate of yours."  
  
_So-called?_  
  
"You have nothing that I want," he says, pretending he does not feel the bite of hunger endlessly, the emptiness in his shrinking stomach gnawing at him day and night.  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"...Our land?" Daesung cringes, expecting to be hit. The other wolf laughs.  
  
"Nice try, but I have something better."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Your life," he says, extending a clawed hand, palm facing up in offering, "in my hands. Your freedom. You want that, don't you?"  
  
Daesung's mouth snaps shut.  
  
"You already agreed to let me go," he says faintly. Then adds, hopeful, "Unharmed."  
  
"Nothing harmful about giving head," the other says, grinning. "I know you're hungry... but pace yourself and you won't choke." The pointed look he gives Daesung is almost as maddening as the hand shamelessly scraping up his thigh.  
  
"No," Daesung says, stepping back and uncurling his tail from where it has been trying to disappear between his legs. Refusing an alpha, no matter how much he hates him, is _hard_.  
  
Those dark eyes trained on him narrow nearly to slits, studying him.  
  
"I get it. You're loyal to him."  
  
"I am."  
  
"What about him? I know his type. He'll fuck anything with a hole and a pulse. Or is that last part not strictly necessary?"  
  
Daesung bristles, hands turning to fists.  
  
"You don't know him." _You don't know **us**._  
  
"I know his kind," the man repeats, his eyes flashing at the prospect of a fight. "Wolves like him usually put their leaders in the ground before long. Surprised _he_ isn't head of your little pack by now instead of that twig, Jiyong."  
  
_It's a good thing he isn't,_ Daesung thinks, angry and indignant on his mate's behalf. Seunghyun is too impulsive, too wild to lead. And he has never lusted after that kind of power anyway, because it does not come without strings, hidden costs that Daesung sees Jiyong, as their alpha, working hard to hide.  
  
He is the web that connects them; his burden is a heavy one, and Seunghyun does not want it.  
  
"I see how that alpha of yours struggles to keep him in check," the wolf before him carries on, "and one day he might not be able to anymore. Then what? Oh wait." He rocks back on his heels, that infuriating grin firmly in place again. "It doesn't matter. You'll all be dead before then."  
  
"It's almost funny," another says, stepping in, "Watching him bark orders at the rest of you. Bit small for an alpha, isn't he?"  
  
"Jiyong and I are the same height," Daesung feels the need to point out, miffed. If they're going to poke fun at his leader's stature, they'll have to contend with him as well.  
  
"It's not that. He's scrawny, even at his best. Like he never has enough to eat. Makes him looks _weak_."  
  
_Don't underestimate him_ , Daesung wants to tell them. Out here, underestimating an opponent is a sure means of meeting an early death... which is why Daesung swings the other way, preferring instead to _over_ estimate them. Fleeing may not always work, but at least there is the chance of escaping unscathed. To fight, however, is to commit. A wolf that fights, though he may win, risks taking damage beyond repair. Dreadful wounds that, with time to wear his weakened body down, will lead him to a slow and painful passing.  
  
Some winners still lose in the end. Such is the way of their world.  
  
"What about that other one? The short one."  
  
"Short, yes, but he is swift and strong."  
  
_Youngbae_. There isn't much they can say against Youngbae; he is one of the finest wolves Daesung has ever known.  
  
"And the one with the white hair," their leader says, looking suddenly uneasy. "I don't like it. He stands out too much."  
  
"Don't tell him that, he'll take it as a compliment," Daesung jokes. It isn't entirely true though. Seungri takes a certain pride in his blazing blond hair, but he can be touchy about it, too. Daesung has the scars to prove it.  
  
"Surprised he's made it this far. My mother would have left me in a field if I'd been born with hair like that. It's a liability."  
  
Daesung feels a growl building low in his throat.  
  
"They would never have let a freak of nature like him live."  
  
" _That's enough_ ," he says sharply. They are going too far now, and he's grateful Seungri didn't stick around to hear this. Until he linked up with them-- and even for a while after, until they reached an understanding-- their omega's unique hair had brought him nothing but pain.  
  
It's why he ran away at a young age. It's why he was forced to grow up so fast, learning to fend for himself while Daesung was still on his knees at his mother's feet, listening with rapt attention as she spun tales of giant beasts that no one living has ever seen, big cats with teeth as long as his arm, enormous, woolly creatures that lumbered about on all fours wielding bony spears, tusks as long as they were tall. And Daesung's favorite, the one he begged her to tell him nightly: accounts of how their kind came to be, stories of humans mingling in the moonlight with wolves-- actual _wolves_.  
  
The first time he encountered an alligator, years later, its massive jaws missing his leg by inches, he realized that some of the monsters she warned him about were very real... and still living.  
  
A gruff voice pulls him back, his reminiscing cut short.  
  
"Your pack is an odd one. Bunch of misfits, every one of you."  
  
_I don't care what you think, none of us do_ , Daesung wishes he could say without risking his tongue. His packmates-- Seunghyun, Jiyong, Youngbae, Seungri-- they are his family, perfectly imperfect, and he loves every one of them. Nothing anyone says can change that.  
  
"You're not so bad though," their leader admits. "Skittish as a deer, but I meant it, you know. You'd be welcome in my bed." His toothy grin is hardly a comfort. "But not in my hunting party. You know why."  
  
Daesung shows him his teeth. Call him a cock warmer, a fuck toy, or his least favorite of all: _bitch_. All of these he can ignore. But insulting his skill as a hunter-- his ability to provide, for himself or for others-- is where he draws the line.  
  
"No? Well, offer's open."  
  
"Not a chance."  
  
The other wolf shrugs.  
  
"We'll all be dead soon anyway. Might as well have some fun before it ends. Get in one last _fuck_ \--" He aims a sharp thrust in Daesung's direction, "while we've still got the energy."  
  
"You've given up," Daesung says, the other's attitude of defeat leaving him feeling strangely... saddened.  
  
"Death is coming for us all. Some of us find ways to stay a few steps ahead of it, but we can't run forever."  
  
_Find ways... like snatching our land from us, you mean._  
  
Just the thought of it crushes him. He and his pack have held this tract of land for years. Daesung knows every pathway like the veins on the back of his hand. He knows the river that runs through it and every connecting creek, every small stream where the riverbed rises, the water shallow enough for him to wade in and fish without even getting his knees wet. He knows all the best places to sprawl out on a warm rock and bask in the sun while his packmates splash about in the shallows. Sometimes Seunghyun crawls on top of him unannounced, shocking him with cold water dribbling down his back and sides. Sometimes he teams up with Youngbae to drag Daesung in, kicking and screaming.  
  
Seunghyun tells him he might find that he likes it, the current's soft caress, if he would just stop struggling. Daesung isn't convinced.  
  
He knows where the deer like to bed down at midday and where they forage at night, though he has yet to master the art of approaching them undetected. He knows where the coyotes gather, their favorite fields strewn with old, chewed-up bones. He can find his way to the cliffs overlooking the river in his sleep, can walk its edges with his eyes closed-- though he would _never_ , no matter how often the others dare him to do it.  
  
This place is more than just grounds for hunting; it's _home_.  
  
"How many packs have you run off?" their alpha quips, dislodging him from his thoughts again. "That's life out here; just means your time is up. Nothing personal."  
  
"I know," Daesung says, more to himself, and bows his head. He has been on the winning side of this game long enough to understand that this isn't about malice or hostility or cruel intentions. It is entirely about survival. They are predators and their prey is gone, their numbers decimated. There just isn't enough left to sustain two packs. There might not even be enough for one.  
  
And every day humans encroach from the south. They clear the trees and erect wire fences that tear flesh and raise stone houses that spit smoke into the sky. The livestock they bring with them tramples the land, flattening the fields of green and gold into dirt lots and frightening away all the creatures that Daesung and his pack depend on.  
  
Perhaps worst of all, they bring their guns. Daesung still struggles to wrap his mind around it, that distance does not guarantee safety when their enemies come at them with rifles in hand.  
  
Seunghyun might have been right all along, Daesung is beginning to accept. It might be time to finally move on. They should have left long ago, but now they're too weak to do so. He does not want to part with this place-- not in their current state, not ever-- but like the sun shedding light on a new day, he is finally coming to see that the only future for them might lie somewhere in a land far from here.  
  
If the journey itself doesn't wipe them out first.  
  
A shrill voice cuts sharply into his thoughts, female this time.  
  
"This was long overdue. Look at us, we're little more than skin and bones, but you... you've still got some meat on you," the woman says, looking Daesung up and down like she wants to jump him. "Someone's been working hard to keep you fed."  
  
"Our leader provides." He does, but in truth it's Seunghyun who has been working himself to the bone to keep him from simply... wasting away.  
  
Daesung takes a good, long look at the bodies around him, most of them slouching where they stand like wilted plants, the life slowly draining out of them. This pack, like his own, is barely holding on. They wear desperation on their haggard faces, skin stretched too-thin across their bones, and their sunken eyes bore into him with a hunger that frightens him.  
  
_Fresh meat_ , their alpha had called him.  
  
_"We're not leaving here without a meal, not today. Maybe we'll start with one of you."_  
  
He shivers and stumbles back a step, suddenly short of breath.  
  
"Look at this guy," they laugh, the ring around him closing in. "He's still _scared_."  
  
"Your packmates. Those you... lost..." He swallows, fighting to regain control of himself, and in scarcely a whisper asks, "You didn't really eat them... did you?"  
  
A murmur of surprise goes up around him.  
  
"He thinks we actually--"  
  
"You really think we _ate_ our dead packmates?" Their leaders snarls. "Really?"  
  
Daesung wishes he knew what to think, what to say. He doesn't know these wolves, doesn't know how they would react if they woke one morning and one of their own did not, while their list of options, like their bodies, wore so very thin...  
  
Would they? Did they?  
  
Seunghyun once told him that to a starving wolf everything looks like a meal.  
  
"But that day... you said..."  
  
"I wasn't serious," the other wolf snarls at him, eyes lit up with loathing. Then he's in front of Daesung and seizing him by the chin, forcing his face up until their eyes meet. "We buried them. Every bit of 'em. It was backbreaking work and took hours to dig a grave big enough, and deep enough to keep scavengers out. We did not eat them." Daesung flinches, flecks of spit sprinkling his cheek. "If you think we did... if someone in your pack's got you believing that... he's been feeding you lies."  
  
Daesung wants it to be true, wants more than anything to believe that Seunghyun had not meant the things he said that day. It had been a low blow, even for him, to imply something so terrible, so _forbidden_. He had only done it to provoke them, trespassers on their land, into a fight when the odds were in his favor, as he often does.  
  
...Right?  
  
"Do you still think we did it?"  
  
"No," Daesung says automatically.  
  
"Tell the truth."  
  
"Why do you care what I think?"  
  
"Come on," he presses, "Look me in the eye and tell me you think we _ate_ them. How do you imagine we did it? Not much muscle left on them by the time they collapsed. Think we broke open their bones and dug out the marrow? No, too much work for too little. Not worth it, right? You must think we sliced them open and _slurped everything out_ \--"  
  
Daesung fights not to gag, his empty stomach burning with bile.  
  
"I don't know. I don't know what to think," he says carefully, grinding the toe of his shoe into the dirt to distract himself from his nausea. "But I want to believe you."  
  
The man shoves him away.  
  
"Everyone knows that when you--" He stops there, face screwing up in what Daesung interprets as genuine distress. "We may live like animals, but only a monster eats one of his own kind."  
  
Daesung nods stiffly. That is one thing they can agree on, at least.  
  
"That mate of yours was fucked up to even suggest it. I'd watch out for that one if I were you. He's the kind of wolf who would sink his teeth into anything if it meant living another day."  
  
"No," Daesung says adamantly.  
  
"Maybe even you."  
  
"No, you're _wrong_."  
  
The man's eyes drop to his neck, to Daesung's network of scars, and he mutters, "Looks to me like he's already started."  
  
He wouldn't. Seunghyun's boundaries blur sometimes, yes, requiring Daesung to steer him back from the edge, but he knows in his heart what lines are not to be crossed. Seunghyun can be violent as a tornado descending on the plains, its swirling funnel thundering over the earth and tearing apart everything in its path... and just as riveting. His passion sucked Daesung in long ago, and his devotion has kept him. For years Daesung has been tossed about and roughed up in the other wolf's howling winds, and given a choice, he would do it all again, surrendering himself to the storm, because while Seunghyun is quick to anger he is just as quick to love, and always ready to defend what is his with all that he is.  
  
These people don't know him like Daesung does. No one does.  
  
They don't know the comfort of his presence at dawn, the warm weight of Seunghyun's arms slung lazily over his hip. They don't know the beam of light that streams every morning through that hole in the wall that they call a window. They don't see how, when it pours over Daesung's sleeping face-- _every damn time_ \-- the curve of Seunghyun's neck is the perfect retreat, his hiding place from the sun's invasive rays.  
  
They don't know how some nights he loses his blanket to Seunghyun, who wakes in the morning with two. But that's okay. Daesung's body runs hot anyway.  
  
They have not experienced Seunghyun the day after a hard hunt, have not heard him kicking up a fuss at the ache in his limbs. They don't see how he rolls onto his stomach and relaxes under Daesung's kneading hands. They don't hear how he sighs in contentment while Daesung works weary muscles over, how he melts into their nest of stolen and scavenged blankets, how his tail flops happily from side to side, brushing the backs of his thighs. They don't know that some nights Daesung creeps in closer, chest to back, thinking to take it further, only to find that his touch has lulled the other wolf into a deep, restful sleep.  
  
He lets him sleep.  
  
They cannot possibly know how, on days when Daesung needs a softer touch, Seunghyun collects himself and handles him as gently as the pretty flowers Youngbae plants around the perimeter of their run-down shack they call home. And when Daesung gets him alone and needs him _hard, right there, oh_... Well, Seunghyun is practiced at giving him that too.  
  
These wolves don't understand what Seunghyun is to him, or what he is to Seunghyun. They know nothing of how, when there is not enough to go around, his mate offers him the first bite and the last, even in the face of Jiyong's wrath. Forgetting their hierarchy. _Defying_ it.  
  
Seunghyun would do anything for him. These sad creatures before him have never known anything so precious, so worth keeping safe and secret, and they never will.  
  
"He isn't the monster you make him out to be," Daesung says, conveying nothing of what he feels.  
  
"If you say so. Fights like one though."  
  
"We thought you'd died for sure," Daesung tells him, recalling the wound Seunghyun had left him with the last time they engaged each other. It was an ugly, nasty thing, long and deep and bleeding freely as he had limped away.  
  
The man takes his shirt by the hem and hikes it up, exposing his side.  
  
"The blood of the wolf runs thick in my veins," he says, seeming proud of his new scars. "But you're no stranger to rapid healing, are you?"  
  
Daesung itches to lift a hand to his own ribs, an old ache under his left breast eager to make itself known-- not unlike the wolf who gave it to him.  
  
_Thanks, Seungri. Love you too._  
  
"I wonder... how fast do your wounds close up?"  
  
The other man eyes Daesung's scars with interest-- specifically, Seunghyun's claiming bites peeking over his shirt collar, little tooth marks sprayed up the back and sides of his neck.  
  
"Fast enough." Daesung curbs the urge to slap a hand over the marks.  
  
"Which do you favor? Wolf?" he murmurs, still advancing, eyes alight with curiosity. "Or human?"  
  
One long claw hooks itself in the neck of Daesung's shirt and tugs, sliding into the dip beneath his clavicle and tapping experimentally at his skin.  
  
"You said you would return me unhurt," Daesung reminds him once more. "That was-- that was the deal."  
  
At his stutter he receives a dark look.  
  
No, not dark. Disgusted.  
  
"Human, then," the other scoffs and jerks away.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"A wolf would dare me to do it."  
  
_A wolf with a death wish_ , Daesung thinks. That claw had been right over his heart. But he does not say this, because he does not wish to die.  
  
"You disgrace yourself," his captor sneers, "and your pack."  
  
Daesung winces. A direct hit. He isn't wrong... but he cannot let him see how his words wound him.  
  
"I can't help them if I'm dead," he says, masking the pain, burying it deep. He can dig it up again and nurse it later if he feels the need.  
  
"One less wolf means one less mouth to feed."  
  
"I'm more useful to them alive. I contribute just as much as they do. I provide." _And you have no idea what it takes to keep Seunghyun in check._  
  
"Whatever. Anyway, I never agreed to return you unharmed, only said I'd release you. Not sure where you're getting this 'unharmed' part from."  
  
"If you do anything--"  
  
"That big bad wolf of yours will come and rip our fuckin' hearts out, I know." His head tips back to face the darkening sky. "You know, at this point that might be the way to go. Starvation is an awful way to die. Too slow."  
  
Daesung does not want Seunghyun anywhere near these people, even though he's probably plotting revenge as they speak. But they are too weak to retaliate. Any strength they have left should be focused on finding themselves something to eat, something to keep themselves going until... until what?  
  
They can't fight. They won't win.  
  
"Just kidding. You come at us again and we'll all go down fighting," he threatens, and Daesung believes him. One last stand, as expected of a wolf pack driven to such desperate measures.

"So tell me," the other says, looking down his nose at Daesung. "Jiyong. Your alpha. Is his word good? Will he honor our agreement?"  
  
Daesung isn't sure.  
  
"I think so."  
  
"You _think_?"  
  
"Jiyong is..." Daesung squares his jaw, raises his chin in a show of resolve. "I'll do what I can."  
  
Their alpha nods, seeming satisfied with his answer.  
  
"Think they've made it back by now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're just saying that." The man licks his lips, considering him. "Maybe we should send someone to check."  
  
"I..." _I just want to go home to my family. Please just let me go._ "They're not anywhere near here. I would know if they were."  
  
"So would we."  
  
Daesung has no reply for that.  
  
"The sun is setting."  
  
Daesung peers at the trees in the distance, which are all black.  
  
"I can see just fine."  
  
"With those small eyes?"  
  
"If I had a bone for every time I heard that--"  
  
He isn't prepared for the hand on his sternum, or the _shove_ that sends him sprawling. He glares up at his attacker from the ground, breathing hard.  
  
"It's been long enough. Get out of here."  
  
Daesung is barely to his feet when a hand smacks him hard across the seat of his jeans. He yelps, a hand flying to his ass, the sting spreading.  
  
"Go on, run back to your little friends!"  
  
Daesung huffs, but does as he's told, jogging away with his head to the side, squinting into the darkness at his back to make sure he is not being followed. Then, with a flick of his tail he takes off at a sprint, trusting his gangly legs to bear him away to safety.  
  
_"And don't you ever come back here, you or the rest of your pack, you hear?"_  
  
It's shouted into the night, a voice sailing through the chilly autumn air like leaves on the wind. It reaches him just before he plunges into the treeline, hot on the trail of his packmates' scents, familiar and compelling. Beyond the slapping of his shoes over solid ground and the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, he hears his family calling to him, their hearts crying out for his safe return.  
  
Home is where the heart is, and he has four waiting for him.

 

 

 


End file.
